swapped it finally away for a more useful time-keeper.

Pen felt himself to be ever so many years older since yesterday. There
was no mistake about it now. He was as much in love as the best hero in
the best romance he ever read. He told John to bring his shaving water
with the utmost confidence. He dressed himself in some of his finest
clothes that morning: and came splendidly down to breakfast, patronising
his mother and little Laura, who had been strumming her music lesson for
hours before; and who after he had read the prayers (of which he did not
heed one single syllable) wondered at his grand appearance, and asked him
to tell her what the play was about?

Pen laughed and declined to tell Laura what the play was about. In fact
it was quite as well that she should not know. Then she asked him why he
had got on his fine pin and beautiful new waistcoat?

Pen blushed and told his mother that the old schoolfellow with whom he
had dined at Chatteris was reading with a tutor at Baymouth, a very
learned man; and as he was himself to go to College, and as there were
several young men pursuing their studies at Baymouth--he was anxious to
ride over-and-and just see what the course of their reading was.

Laura made a long face. Helen Pendennis looked hard at her son, troubled
more than ever with the vague doubt and terror which had been haunting
her ever since the last night, when Farmer Gurnett brought back the news
that Pen would not return home to dinner. Arthur's eyes defied her. She
tried to console herself, and drive off her fears. The boy had never told
her an untruth. Pen conducted himself during breakfast in a very haughty
and supercilious manner; and, taking leave of the elder and younger lady,
was presently heard riding out of the stablecourt. He went gently at